


Drop Down My Defenses (Down by My Clothes)

by eyesofshinigami



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Blow Jobs, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Facials, For Heathen the Mad Glorious Bastard, Hand Jobs, Lace Panties, Lingerie, M/M, Soft Dom Eskel, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28182885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesofshinigami/pseuds/eyesofshinigami
Summary: Eskel brings Lambert a gift for the winter, and he can't wait to see his Little Wolf dressed up all pretty.OrLambert in panties, part deux
Relationships: Eskel/Lambert (The Witcher)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 51





	Drop Down My Defenses (Down by My Clothes)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HeathenAlchemist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeathenAlchemist/gifts).



> This is a gift for the very lovely Heathen, who mentioned they'd like to see Lambert in pretty things and being taken care of. I know you got a sneaky peek the other day, but here's the official posting. Enjoy, my friend!
> 
> Title taken from I Bruise Easily by Natasha Bedingfield because it fit very nicely

As soon as Eskel sees them in the shop window, he knows he has to get them. 

He’s down in The Bits, contemplating a visit to one of the whorehouses there when he stumbles across the shop. He’s surprised they’re displaying such wares in plain view, given the current Eternal Fire nonsense going on, but he chalks it up to good fortune and ducks inside. 

The shop is pleasantly lit and smells of sandalwood, just enough to give it a hazy, mysterious atmosphere. Eskel doesn’t have much experience with shops like this, but it seems like it’s hitting the mark. A pleasantly plump woman with well-done make-up is sitting behind the counter and she grins at him, which is a pleasant surprise. “Hello, sir. Come to inquire about my wares?” she asks, folding her hands on the countertop. 

“Uh, yes. I saw the set in the window and wondered if it was for sale?” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder towards the soft emerald green set that caught his eye as he was walking. “I’d like to see it up close as well, if you don’t mind.” 

“Of course, sir.” The woman bustles out from behind her counter and plucks the mannequin from the window and brings it over. With deft fingers that speak of years of practice, she strips the top and panties off, handing them over to Eskel to inspect. “They’re of fine quality satin, sturdy but pretty. They can be worn for bedroom play or as daily undergarments, though I would recommend the former rather than the latter.” 

He can’t stop his snort at the idea of them being worn throughout the day, knowing Lambert as he does. Still, he likes the way the satin feels beneath his fingers, buttery smooth and delicate. The color would look amazing next to Lambert’s skin and the mental picture alone is enough to have heat spiking in Eskel’s gut. “I think this will do. Uh, forgive me, though. I don’t think this particular set would fit the person I have in mind. Do you have different sizes?” he asks, biting his lip. He’s never bought lingerie for someone before and the last thing he wants is to upset Lambert by buying the wrong thing. This is already a gamble, one that he’s hoping will pay off for both of them.

The woman sniffs, as though Eskel just insulted her. “Of course, sir. We pride ourselves on having a wide variety of sizes and shapes, as bodies themselves come in all sizes and shapes. Could you describe them to me?” 

Eskel lets out a breath of relief, grateful for the woman’s professionalism. “Uh, well. They’re… a little shorter than me, not as broad.” He gives some vague gestures, trying to conjure Lambert’s measurements up in his head. _You’d think you’d have that figured out, as many shirts as that idiot goes through_ , he thinks fondly. He feels a little embarrassed at his lack of knowledge, but as much time as they spend together, this is the first time he’s ever considered Lambert’s size so intimately. “I’m sorry, I know it’s probably-”

“I have just the thing. Please wait here, sir.” With that, the woman disappears behind a curtain, into what Eskel assumes is some kind of storeroom. He shifts from foot to foot while he waits, trying to keep himself from tapping his fingers against the counter. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he could pick something else, find something else to bring Lambert this winter to declare his intentions. Though, the idea of Lambert, trussed up in pretty lace and creamy satin is just too good to ignore, especially not after finding proof of his fondness for them during one of his shifts in the laundry. 

It feels like an eternity until she returns, holding a thin box out to him. “I believe that this is the size you need. Without the person here, it’s hard to tell, but I’ve been doing this for a very long time, sir, and I’m willing to bet this will suit your needs.” 

Eskel peeks inside the box and that same bolt of heat ripples down his spine. Oh yes, this will definitely be worth the dent in his purse this side trip will surely cause. Already he’s salivating at the thought of Lambert tucked up in his bed, spread out on his sheets wearing nothing but this pretty satin. “Yes, I think this will do nicely,” he manages to say around a dry throat, closing the box and taking it from her. “How much?” 

She names a price, not nearly as much as he thought, but he suspects that she’s going easy on him, if her little smirk is any indication. He can’t complain. It isn’t often Witchers get discounts on anything, especially not things he’d consider a treat. He hands the money over and walks out with the box under his arm. He doesn’t particularly care if anyone is staring, frankly used to it considering the state of his face, before he heads back towards the Rosemary and Thyme, where he’s staying, his trip to the whorehouse forgotten in the wake of better thoughts of winter.

\--

He makes his way up the mountain a little early this year, determined to get there before Lambert does. The youngest Wolf is usually the last to arrive anyway, but Eskel doesn’t really want to take any changes. He’s kept his gift tucked into the bottom of Scorpion’s saddlebags and he’s practically vibrating with the excitement of slipping it onto Lambert’s bed for him to find. It’s a risk, he knows. Lambert is just as likely to toss it out the window as he is to actually keep it, depending on the mood he returns to the keep in. 

Eskel’s really hoping he keeps them.

That thought buoys him as he makes his way up the trail, the smell of coming snow hanging thick in the air. He hurries Scorpion along and they make good time, Vesemir standing at the gates to greet him with a nod of his head. “You’re early, pup. Rough year?” the oldest Wolf asks as they walk inside what was left of the keep. 

“No, just wanted to take care of some things here before the others got here,” Eskel replied as smoothly as he could manage. Vesemir was no fool. He knew what sort of things they got up to the keep during the winter, when the cold and the loneliness got to be too much and they were all climbing the walls to find something, _anything_ to keep them occupied. Still, Eskel isn’t quite ready to have that conversation with this mentor, so he doesn’t elaborate further, and Vesemir doesn’t press.

The next few days pass quickly, with Eskel helping Vesemir with chores and upkeep around the still-held parts of their home. Patching walls and tending to animals keeps his mind off the thin, white box sitting on Lambert’s bed, and the person the bed belongs to. He can feel himself starting to get antsy, worried that Lambert might not make it this year, which is a rather dangerous spiral to go down if he lets himself.

Geralt shows up a day or two later, his bard in tow, greeting him and Vesemir as warmly as they can manage before they disappear upstairs so Jaskier can sleep off the trip up. Eskel can’t blame him, really, but Geralt’s arrival ratchets that anxious feeling up even more. Lambert should be here soon and he has to stop himself from thinking about it.

Sure enough, the little shit makes it just before the first snow begins to fall, griping to Vesemir about the contract that nearly made him late. “So the alderman was trying to play coy about giving me my pay, and I told him I’d make sure there’d never be another goddamn Witcher that would walk through his shithole of a town and the next time he had rotfiends, he could fucking deal with them himself!” He slams into the great hall like a hurricane, though there’s a smile playing on the edge of his mouth when he spots Eskel. 

“Lived another year, I see,” Eskel teases, even as he wraps Lambert up in his arms. He half-expects the younger witcher to shove him off, but instead Lambert melts a little bit against him, and it takes every single ounce of Eskel’s willpower not to react to it. 

“You sound disappointed,” Lambert jokes right back, giving Eskel one last little squeeze before he pushes off and makes like nothing happened. “I thought seeing my pretty face was the thing you looked the most forward to in winter. That and me kicking your ass in Gwent.” 

_You have no idea_ , Eskel thinks to himself. Out loud, he says, “You’re a tenacious bastard. You’ll probably outlive us all.” 

“Like a cockroach,” Geralt chimes in from the table, which of course incites a scuffle between the two of them. Jaskier is watching them with an amused smile, meeting Eskel’s eyes and shrugging. It’s warm, and playful, and it makes Eskel’s heart swell to watch his family relax like this. The life of a Witcher is hard, but moments like this soften the edges and make it tolerable. 

The rest of the night is filled with much of the same, Lambert’s latest homebrewed nonsense brought out for them to enjoy while they play Gwent and Jaskier warbles away on his lute. Eventually, Vesemir retires, and Geralt and Jaskier aren’t far behind, leaving Lambert and Eskel alone over their dice and cards. Warm and a little drunk off of Lambert’s moonshine and the happiness of him being here, Eskel says, “I missed you. I’m glad you made it back.” 

Lambert takes another swig of his drink and makes a face at the taste, but wipes his mouth and grins. “Don’t lie, you know it’s my ass you missed.” He picks up the dice to give them another toss, but Eskel’s not paying any attention. 

“That too, but I did. Miss you. I always miss you on the Path. You and Geralt and Vesemir, but… I missed you the most.” 

“I guess I made that batch a little strong, listen to you, turning into a fuckin’ sap. I think it’s about time for bed for you, old man,” Lambert says dismissively, but Eskel doesn’t miss how his ears go pink. He drains the last of his tankard and slams it down on the table. “I’ll see you in the morning, Kel.” 

Eskel drags himself to his room, head spinning from the drink and the sheer relief of having them all back under the same roof. He strips his shirt off and starts wiping himself down, which is why he jumps nearly a foot in the air when his door slams open and Lambert comes marching inside, his eyes blazing. Well, it appears he found Eskel’s present. 

“What the fuck did you leave on my bed, Eskel?” Lambert snarls, baring his teeth. He smells hot, like the force of his anger, but Eskel can smell the hints of sour shame underneath it, as well as the barest hint of arousal. “And don’t try to say it wasn’t you, because I sure as fuck know that _Geralt_ isn’t leaving me that shit.” 

Even as angry as he is, Lambert looks so beautiful like this, it takes Eskel’s breath away. “It’s a present,” he says simply, setting down the cloth and turning towards Lambert. “I saw it in a window and thought of you.” 

“Why?”

He takes a deep breath and goes to his wardrobe, fishing out something that he’s kept hidden since last winter. It’s a pair of light blue lacy panties, feeling his face go hot as he holds them up to where Lambert can see them. “I… found these when I was doing laundry last winter. They smelled like you and I--” he stutters, not looking at Lambert as he continues. “Anyway, I was walking around Novigrad and I found a shop, the set in the window caught my eye.” He takes a deep breath and finally, _finally_ looks up to meet Lambert’s eyes. “Fuck, I just imagined you wearing something like that, down on your knees for me and ruining them and I couldn’t resist. I get hard just thinking about it.” 

It’s quiet for several heartbeats, Lambert’s mouth hanging open and Eskel waits to see what he’ll do. The youngest wolf’s mercurial temper is one of the things Eskel likes about him, how he can go from purring like a kitten to snorting mad in no time flat. The look on Lambert’s face is hard to read and Eskel opens his mouth to speak again when he’s suddenly pressed up against a wall. He thinks he’s going to be punched, but instead Lambert crushes their mouths together in a biting kiss, savage and a little bloody in a way that has Eskel’s blood singing in his veins. He gives as good as he getting, sinking his teeth into the curve of Lambert’s bottom lip and tasting his blood on his tongue. 

When Lambert pulls back, his eyes are wild and his hair has started to frizz out of its usual slicked-back style. “Always knew you were a dirty fuck, stealing someone’s underthings and hiding them. Did you jerk off into them, Kel? Imagine me stroking my cock in them?” Lambert mutters hotly, licking across Eskel’s jaw as he grinds up against him. 

Eskel doesn’t bother holding back the hiss of pleasure at the feeling. “No, I didn’t. Wanted them to smell like you, so I could imagine you wearing them. Tell me, Little Wolf, are you going to wear my pretty present for me?” 

Lambert’s scent spikes with lust and his eyes are blown wide, a delicious little growl escaping his swollen mouth. “Is that what you want? Wanna see me look pretty for you, you dirty bastard?” He’s sneering, but Eskel is fluent enough in Lambert to hear the little keen of want underneath the words. He wants it just as bad as Eskel does, even if he’ll bite through his own tongue before he says it. 

“Absolutely. I want you on your knees in front of me, and I want to watch you ruin your pretty underthings with my cock in your mouth.” Eskel doesn’t miss the way Lambert shivers against him at that, the way the scent of his arousal curls in his nose and makes Eskel’s cock hard in his breeches. “I’ll take you apart, if you let me. You know that, Lamb.” 

“Fuck you, you bastard,” Lambert says, but it’s not a no and Eskel can feel Lambert’s own cock hard against his thigh. 

They tumble into bed together, clothes and Eskel’s gift forgotten for the time being. It feels so good to have Lambert under him, drinking in his smell and tasting his sweat on his tongue. Lambert’s making the most delicious noises and Eskel keeps whispering to him about how beautiful he’s going to look, how much he wants to see him make a mess in his pretty lacy things. It’s a satisfying night and Eskel gets the pleasure of curling around Lambert as they fall asleep.

\--

Eskel feels like he might pop out of his skin with anticipation as the days pass on with nothing happening. Lambert still ends up in his bed, they still fuck, but as far as he knows, the slim white box is still tucked away somewhere in Lambert’s room. He’s starting to think that maybe it was the wrong call, that Lambert didn’t like it and just doesn’t want to say anything about it, despite never not speaking up when he doesn’t like something. 

Until one afternoon, when Lambert pulls him aside and hisses through his teeth, “Meet me in your room in twenty minutes.” Then he’s off like a shot and it takes Eskel a moment or two to gather his bearings. Heat starts pooling in his belly when the realization finally sinks in and he’s rushing to his room. He spends the next few minutes fretting about the space, not sure what to do with himself. His cock is already thickening up in his breeches and he can feel sweat pooling in the small of his back. 

Thankfully, the door creaks open and Lambert steps inside, closing it behind him and locking it. He’s still wearing his loose shirt and trousers from training, but there’s a pretty pink flush on his cheeks that wasn’t there before. He steps closer and wordlessly starts to strip down, pointedly not looking at Eskel as he does. The trousers drop and Eskel has to suck in a breath as his cock jerks in his pants.

Lambert is _breathtaking_. The lacy top fits across his shoulders and chest beautifully, accentuating despite the lack of breasts, but cupping his pecs in a way that makes Eskel’s mouth water. The brilliant green is striking against his skin and highlighting the loose, red curls he lets down out of that horrid dyed wax he uses. Eskel skates his gaze down to see the heft of Lambert’s cock snug against the delicate fabric, framed nicely in pretty lace. He wants to bury his nose there, mouth along the length and get them all wet and messy. 

“Paint a fucking picture, it’ll last longer,” Lambert mutters, pinking even more and crossing his arms over his chest, pushing his pretty tits up even further into the cups of the top. He’s still not looking at Eskel, shifting like he’s ready to bolt if Eskel so much as moves the wrong way. “It looks--”

“Lamb, you’re _stunning_ ,” Eskel breathes, drifting closer to Lambert like a moth to a flame. An apt description, considering how breathtaking he looks right now. “It’s better than I could have imagined. You’re gorgeous and I want to eat you right up.”

Lambert lets out a small sound, almost a whimper, and lets his hands fall back to his sides. His fists are still clenched tight, but it's still a step forward. “You don’t have to flatter me. You know I’m a sure thing, Kel.” He smirks, but his pretty flush gives him away. 

Reaching up, Eskel runs his fingers through his soft curls and down, down until he can tweak a nipple through the pretty satin. “Oh, but I do. I’m going to tell you every day how stunning you are, how lovely you look in the gift I got you. Fuck, Lamb, I can’t take my eyes off of you.” He steps into Lambert’s space and pushes their bodies together, so that Lambert can feel just how much he’s enjoying what he sees. “Do you like it?”

There’s a heartbeat of silence before Lambert answers, voice soft, “Yeah. Yeah I do. Like the way it feels. Makes me feel… good.” His teeth are clenched, like he doesn’t want the words to escape, but Eskel knows how to draw them out of him. He tugs at Lambert’s nipple again, pulling a pretty noise out of him before he adds, “Feel soft. Sweet.” 

“You are,” Eskel says, grinding against Lambert’s bare thigh. His cock is leaking inside his trousers, but he’ll take this slow, give Lambert time to come to him. “You are soft, and sweet. Just for me, though. Only I know how you like to be loved, don’t I?” At Lambert’s jerky nod, Eskel coos and sweeps him up into a heated kiss. There’s tongue and teeth and it makes Eskel’s head spin when he smells the spicy cinnamon-hot scent of Lambert’s lust washing over him. He could drown in that smell and die a happy man.

Eskel guides Lambert over to the bed, still kissing him like it’ll never be enough, like he’ll never get his fill of this beautiful man who gives himself over to Eskel every single winter. He rumbles low in his chest, pleased when the back of his knees bump up against the mattress. He breaks the kiss and sits down, looking up at Lambert as he licks the taste of him off his lips.

If Lambert was beautiful before, he’s _gorgeous_ like this, the gold of his eyes blown-black with lust and his mouth is open in a soft pant, his body trembling finely as sweat beads across his skin. The fabric of his pretty underthings is tented obscenely, with a little darkened wet spot right around the head. All riled up from a little kissing, but Eskel is too, hot with lust for his beautiful Lamb. “On your knees, Lamb,” he orders, watching as Lambert sinks gracefully to the floor. His knees are spread wide and the fabric stretches, and it’s almost like he can see every ridge and vein of Lambert’s pretty cock.

Lambert looks up at him, eyes wide and luminous, the tip of his tongue tracing along his swollen bottom lip as he waits. It’s enough to send another bolt of heat through Eskel and he lets out a soft growl of approval.

“Such a good Lamb, aren’t you? My Little Wolf,” Eskel purrs and Lambert shivers, his eyes closing as his head falls against Eskel’s thigh. The sharp smell of precome hits his nose and Eskel grins down at Lambert. He runs his hands through his thick, red curls and tugs just a bit, just enough to make Lambert hiss between his teeth and open his eyes again. “Tell me what you want, Little Wolf. Ask for it and it’s yours.”

Lambert’s lip curls in a little snarl for just a moment, gone between the blink of an eye, before he settles back and looks up at Eskel. “I wanna suck your cock. You promised me,” he demands, spreading his legs just a bit more. 

“I did, didn’t I? Told you I would let you suck me while you ruined your pretty things. Will you do that for me?” 

At Lambert’s nod, Eskel lets go of his hair and pulls his cock out, red and wet and practically dripping at the tip. Lambert eyes it hungrily and Eskel would chastise him for it, but he looks so pretty and wanting that he can’t help himself either. “Go ahead, Lamb, take what you want.” 

“Fuck,” is all Lambert says before he reaches up to grab Eskel’s cock and guides it to his mouth, flicking his tongue across the head and moaning at the taste. He looks up at Eskel through his lashes and makes a show of wrapping his lips around him, sinking down slowly as he sucks. Lambert’s a champion cocksucker on a normal day, no gag reflex to speak of, but the added thrill of him in his pretty gift that Eskel bought him that threatens to make him come quicker than he’d like. The soft, wet heat of Lambert’s mouth is addictive and Eskel moans when Lambert’s lips touch the wiry curls at the base of his cock. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, Little Wolf. Your mouth is so good, you take me so well,” Eskel croons at him. He keeps his hips still, at least until Lambert pulls back and gives him a tug around the base of his cock. “Yeah? Want me to fuck your mouth? I will, but slow. You deserve slow and sweet tonight because you look so pretty for me.” He doesn’t miss the way Lambert’s eyes flutter, or the way that his entire body shakes at Eskel’s softly spoken words. But he gives into Lambert’s unspoken request, slowly starting to thrust the length of his cock against Lambert’s tongue. 

Lambert moans around his length and starts to bob his head into the thrusts, pulling back and pushing forward to the pace that Eskel sets. He’s so eager, it makes Eskel’s blood sing in his veins and he wants more. “I want you to touch yourself, Lamb. Tease yourself through that pretty lace for me.” To Eskel’s delight, he watches Lambert’s other hand drop between his legs, using his middle finger to tease along the length of his cock still trapped in the lace. He feels more than hears the whimper Lambert lets out, right before he wraps his hand around his cock and squeezes. “There you go, good. So good for me, Little Wolf. Get yourself nice and wet and show me how you like to touch yourself in your pretty things.” 

It’s a sight, and Eskel can smell how close Lambert is already, how much he’s enjoying being on display for him. He bites his lip and keeps slowly rocking his hips, dragging his cock in and out of Lambert’s pretty swollen mouth. Hot, wide golden eyes stare up at him as Lambert’s hand works his own cock through the lace, panting around his mouthful. 

“Look at you, so good for me,” he says again, petting through Lambert’s hair before he gently clasps the back of his head in one wide hand. He doesn’t push, just uses it as a brace as he continues to gently fuck Lambert’s mouth. The heat pooling in his belly is a slow build, thick and syrupy as the pleasure pulses through his entire body. Frantic sex with Lambert is good, but Eskel can’t help but love him more like this, soft and sweet and slow as Lambert takes what he’s given so beautifully. “I could spend a thousand lifetimes loving you like this, Lamb, and it would never be enough.”

Lambert whimpers around his cock and takes him all the way down, the head of Eskel’s cock nudging the back of his throat. It yanks a groan out of him as Lambert swallows, the tight wet heat of this throat making it hard to keep his hips still. He’s giving the orders, but they both know that this is Lambert’s show and Eskel is here to enjoy the ride. After what feels like forever, Lambert pulls back and Eskel moans again at the loss of that tight pressure, but the hot tongue laving along the thick vein on the underside is enough to blunt it. Lambert takes another slow, teasing lick along the head and dipping into the slit, before he goes back to sucking and squeezing Eskel’s leg.

Eskel resumes his pace, but this time, he can feel the beginnings of his orgasm low in his pelvis, his cock flexing against Lambert’s tongue as he slowly fucks his mouth. “Lamb, I’m getting close, your mouth is just too good, Little Wolf. You always know just how to make me feel good,” he purrs, rolling his hips but keeps that same slow, soft pace. 

Lambert is still stroking his cock through his pretty underthings, the fabric soaked with the amount of precome he’s leaking everywhere. It’s gorgeous, and Eskel is so very thankful that he happened across that shop in Novigrad. He doesn’t speak, just keeps sucking Eskel, slowly pulling him closer and closer to the edge with each long, slow pull of his mouth. 

It isn’t long until Eskel’s body begins to shake, his breath coming quicker and he knows he’s not going to last much longer, and he goes to warn Lambert that he’s about to come.

To his surprise, Lambert pulls back and uses his free hand to stroke Eskel’s cock, his pace quicker now. Eskel almost wonders if Lambert wants him to come on the delicate fabric, soak it through with his own come, but he lets out a shout when he feels the coarseness of Lambert’s beard against the head of his cock. 

“Lamb, what--” 

But Lambert doesn’t answer. Instead, he jerks quicker, still scraping the head of Eskel’s cock along the grain of his beard, his lips pulled up into a smirk. He keeps at it, stroking and touching and rubbing the head through the hair until Eskel starts to come. The strange sensation is enough to pull him over and he waits for Lambert to pull back, but he doesn’t. He lets out a growl and keeps milking Eskel’s cock, and Eskel moans when he realizes.

Lambert is rubbing his come all over his face and his beard, and Eskel can scent the precome in the air as he finishes. Fuck, but Lambert is a sight, once he can get his bearings back enough to looks. He’s smeared from lips to chin in Eskel’s come and he’s running his fingers through it like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. “Kel,” he moans out hoarsely, and fuck if it doesn’t make Eskel’s cock flex in Lambert’s grip like he’s already ready for another round.

He tackles Lambert to the floor and nuzzles up against his neck, pushing his body between Lambert’s legs and letting him rub his hard, wet cock up against the palm of his hand. Eskel doesn’t squeeze, but enjoys the way that Lambert is rutting up against him, slick and hot. “Does that feel good, Little Wolf? Going to ruin your pretty things for me? Got my come smeared all over you, you’re going to smell like me for _days_. Everyone in the keep will know, even Jaskier, when he gets close enough to you.” Lambert lets out another pretty noise and ruts faster, his cock twitching against Eskel’s hand as he chases his own release. 

There’s nothing in the world quite like watching Lambert fall apart like this beneath him, sweaty and flushed and making the most delicious noises as he gets closer to coming. He knows Lambert tolerates the sweet talk, especially like this, but he’s just so beautiful that Eskel can’t help himself. “You’re a vision, I swear. I’m going to buy you so many pretty things for you to ruin for me, want to see you come all over yourself in your pretty panties. Next time, maybe I’ll let you ride me in them, pull them to the side and fuck you just like that.” 

He’s not sure what does it, but between one thrust and the next, Lambert is coming, spilling inside the pretty lace as he fucks against Eskel’s hand. He arches back and Eskel delivers a soft bite to his collarbone, just a teasing nip that has Lambert shaking even more beneath him. He finally rolls his hips to a stop, one last jerk before Lambert collapses back against the floor. “Fuck, that was so fucking good,” Lambert says, chest heaving as he plays with the lacy edge of the top. 

“Mmm, you’re a mess now, though,” Eskel replies delightedly. He licks along Lambert’s jaw and inhales ths sweaty, sated smell of him with a grin. “I like it.”

Lambert rolls his eyes. “Who’s fucking fault is that?” he grumbles without any real bite. “Though, if you don’t pick me up off this cold ass floor, I might bite you. Coming in lace is great and all until it’s fucking wet.” 

Eskel shakes his head but does as Lambert asks, lifting him up and carrying him over to the copper tub in the corner. The water is clean, but cold, so Eskel casts a quick Igni over it to warm it back up to Lambert’s liking. He helps him strip down and lays the dirty underthings to the side to clean later before he starts tending to Lambert. He washes his hair and scrubs him down, pressing soft kisses to his cheeks and temples as he does. Lambert is boneless against the side of the tub and Eskel loves him so much. “Thank you,” he says after a bit, burying his nose in Lambert’s wet curls for a moment before he starts to comb through them.

“Don’t have to thank me. I liked it too. Stop making it weird,” Lambert mutters, tilting his head back so Eskel can kiss him properly. “Going to do it again, too. As soon as you wash those things for me.”

It pulls a laugh out of Eskel and he pinches Lambert’s nipple, earning himself a shout of outrage and he gets pulled into the tub. Lambert’s in his lap and is growling as he pinches him back, turning it into a strange wrestling match that leads to kissing and rutting against each other in the water.

They eventually manage to get out of the tub and get dried off, Lambert pulling Eskel into bed for an afternoon nap before Vesemir calls them down for supper. It’s not a bad idea, Eskel thinks to himself as he spoons up behind Lambert and buries his face in his neck. He’s warm and his skin smells clean, underlaid with the scent that Eskel always associated most with home.

But he’s definitely giving that shop another visit next spring.

-END-

**Author's Note:**

> Like it? Love it? Let me know in the comments below or over on Discord at #eyesofshinigami0707


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